Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 418: The truth 2

The air between them seemed to freeze.

Lucas’ eyes narrowed behind the mask.

Commander Alexander stared at Ken in disbelief.

Ken continued without hesitation.

"She has been working with the us since the beginning."

The King shook his head slowly.

"No," he said quietly.

Ken ignored the denial.

"She helped plan the destabilization of Valerion from within."

His gaze shifted briefly toward Lucas.

"You remember the attempt on Prince Darius’ life."

Lucas’ mind immediately returned to that moment.

The poisoned wine.

The desperate race to save the prince.

The chaos that had nearly plunged the kingdom into war.

Ken smiled faintly.

"That plan was hers."

The King’s expression cracked.

Ken’s voice remained steady.

"She arranged for the poison."

He lifted the crown slightly again.

"The blame was meant to fall on the Kingdom of Blackmare. A war would have followed soon after. Valerion would have been weakened from the inside while fighting a pointless war outside its borders."

His eyes moved toward Lucas.

"But you interfered."

Lucas remained silent.

"You healed the prince," Ken said.

"Your actions ruined that particular plan."

The King’s breathing grew heavier.

Ken continued.

"The monster hordes that attacked Valerion shortly after."

Commander Alexander stiffened.

"That was also her doing," Ken said calmly.

Lucas felt a cold weight settle in his chest.

Ken’s voice never changed.

"She has served the usurpers from the beginning."

The valley remained silent.

The King stood frozen.

His mind refused to accept the words he had just heard.

His wife.

The Queen of Valerion.

The woman who had shared his throne.

The woman who had stood beside him through years of rule and war.

The idea that she had been working against him the entire time felt impossible.

Commander Alexander finally spoke, though his voice sounded distant even to himself.

"That... cannot be true."

Ken simply held the crown up again.

The proof glittered in the sunlight.

The King’s shoulders trembled slightly as the weight of it all began to settle over him.

The usurpers had always been ahead.

Rus had fallen.

Lechia had fallen.

Valerion had fallen.

And now they were standing in a valley filled with the bodies of men who had died believing they were defending a kingdom that no longer belonged to them.

The King stood there in stunned silence.

Lucas said nothing.

Commander Alexander could barely breathe.

None of them could believe what they had just heard.

At first the King did not move.

He stood there with his eyes fixed on the crown in Ken’s hand, as though his mind had not yet caught up with what he had just heard. The battlefield around them seemed distant for a moment. The bodies on the ground, the smoke rising from burnt earth, the two massive armies waiting on either side of the valley all faded into the background of his thoughts.

It had not been Lucas.

It had not been Henrietta.

It had not been the Empress.

It had not been some council elder whispering into enemy ears.

It had been his own wife.

The Queen of Valerion.

The woman who had stood beside him in court. The woman who had shared his throne. The woman who had smiled beside him during ceremonies and banquets while secretly carving the kingdom apart piece by piece.

A bitter realization rose inside his chest like fire.

She had planned the poisoning of their son.

Prince Darius.

Her own child.

For power and ambition.

For a throne that apparently meant more to her than blood.

The King’s fingers slowly tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Ken was still speaking calmly, explaining things as if he were recounting a story whose ending had already been decided.

But the King was no longer listening.

Inside him something had snapped.

Greed, power and ambition.

He had seen those things destroy noble houses before. He had seen men turn against brothers and friends for the promise of authority.

But to sacrifice one’s own child for it?

The thought made his chest burn.

Power was poison.

And in weak minds it spread like rot.

The King’s breathing grew heavier.

Lucas noticed the shift immediately.

There was something different about the man standing beside him now. The King’s shoulders had stiffened and his eyes had lost the stunned disbelief that had filled them moments earlier.

What replaced it was something far more dangerous.

Rage.

Pure, violent rage.

Before anyone could react, the King moved.

It happened so fast that the motion almost blurred.

With a sharp metallic sound his large sword flashed free from its sheath. The blade caught the light as it came out in one fluid motion and in the same instant the King stepped forward with terrifying speed.

His cloak snapped violently behind him as he swung.

The strike was not restrained.

It was not ceremonial.

It was a killing blow driven by fury.

The sword tore through the air as it aimed directly for Celestial Ken.

Even Ken’s eyes widened slightly at the sudden violence.

But his reaction was still faster.

His body shifted just enough for the blade to pass by him in a violent arc, the wind from the swing cutting through the space where he had been standing a heartbeat earlier.

The earth beneath the strike cracked as the sword passed.

The general beside Ken reacted instantly.

"Your Majesty!" he shouted, stepping forward to intercept.

He drew his own weapon and moved to block the King’s second strike before it could reach Ken.

But he had underestimated the man he was facing.

The King’s movements were brutal and precise.

There was no hesitation.

The second swing came faster than the first.

The general barely managed to raise his weapon when the blade flashed again.

Steel met steel for a fraction of a second.

Then the sound of tearing flesh followed.

The general’s eyes widened in shock.

His weapon dropped from his hand as his arm separated from his body in a clean, brutal arc.

Blood sprayed across the scorched ground.

The severed limb fell several paces away, landing among the broken spears scattered across the battlefield.

The general collapsed to one knee with a roar of pain, clutching the stump of his shoulder as blood poured down his armor.

Lucas stared.

For a brief moment he forgot to breathe.

He had fought powerful men before. He had seen great warriors on the battlefield and masters of cultivation who could tear through armies.

But the King’s movement had been something else entirely.

It had not relied on cultivation alone.

It had been pure swordsmanship.

The kind of refined, lethal technique that could only come from decades of relentless practice.

Lucas had never seen the King fight before.

And now he realized something he had never expected.

The King of Valerion was a terrifying swordsman.

His blade moved with a level of mastery that even Sage cultivators rarely reached.

The force of his strikes carried something deeper than Qi.

It carried skill.

Lucas stood frozen for a moment, genuinely taken aback.

"I didn’t know..." he murmured quietly.

Beside him, Commander Alexander showed no surprise at all.

He simply watched the King with a steady expression.

"Of course you didn’t," Alexander said calmly.

Lucas glanced toward him.

Alexander’s voice carried quiet respect.

"His Majesty was already a master swordsman long before he ever wore the crown."

Ahead of them the King stood with his blade still extended, blood dripping slowly from its edge onto the ruined battlefield.